


You are a magical being

by turquoise_tales



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Author would love to chat about magic, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Established Relationship, Good Boyfriend Steve Rogers, M/M, Magic, Pastel Witch Bucky, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Ratings may go up, Soft Bucky, This is how real witchcraft works kids, Witch Bucky, probably will, ws bucky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 15:04:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11084091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turquoise_tales/pseuds/turquoise_tales
Summary: Bucky discovers witchcraft and dumps magic on the rest of the Avengers. Alternatively, 5 times Steve doesn't believe in magic and 1 time something happens that changes his mind.





	You are a magical being

**Author's Note:**

> ahahahaha yeah.. Blood Bound, I know... I'm gonna work on it, I swear. This just popped into my head yesterday and I just couldn't not write it. Sorry! But I hope you enjoy this!! Pastel Witch Bucky is quickly becoming my life lmao.
> 
> Unbeta'd 
> 
> (If you wanna check over and beta, hmu)

1.

  
Steve wasn’t sure when exactly Bucky had stumbled upon _magic_  but their shared apartment in the Avengers tower was slowly turning into those witch houses from horror movies with bunches of herbs hanging from the ceiling, crystals scattered everywhere, incense smoke making him thank the universe he didn’t have asthma anymore and candles-Oh lord, a number of candles that Bucky had amassed had driven Steve to get Tony to install extra fire safety precautions in their apartment- only everything was pastel. This somehow made it even more disconcerting to Steve who was more used to the horror and goth that the movies portrayed.   
  


This was something that New Bucky did. Like how he didn’t drink milk directly out of bottles and cartons anymore, or how he preferred to walk around their apartment in his underwear and a baggy pastel sweatshirt or sweater that came down to his mid thigh and smack Steve with the flappy part of the too-long sleeves, gauging Steve’s reaction (Steve always rolled his eyes and kissed Bucky, smiling and Bucky would go back to whatever he was doing) or how he stuttered sometimes or how he preferred strawberries now. Of course there were traces of the Old Bucky in the twinkle of mischievousness that replaced the lost, thousand yard stare even if for just a few minutes, and the ghost of his old smirk that always twisted back to the wry smile that was his new smile, and the way he hoarded sci-fi books and hovered, albeit, quietly in Stark’s lab on his good days. Sam had had long talks with Steve about how he should not expect Bucky to act like his own self even if he recovered after Bucky had come back. Steve understood, of course, but sometimes he slipped, putting the sepia slides of 1930’s against the bright ones of the 21st century. Bucky was doing terribly well recovering the past two years, even through the bad days and some days he even looked genuinely happy. So whatever Bucky wanted, Steve would indulge him even if it meant he had move heaven and earth for it. 

 

The witch thing started out slowly first with shoddily potted herbs popping up around the apartment around the sixth-month mark of Bucky coming back home. For every pot that appeared, Bucky would be twitchy, jumping every time Steve spoke as if he expected for his pots to be taken away until Steve had taken him out to pick up prettier pots and gardening tools. Now the herb garden had taken over the balcony and the apartment had turned into a crystal museum. It wasn’t until after six more months since the first pot appeared that Bucky had talked to Steve about it. 

 

“Steve, I’m a witch.” He’d sprung it on Steve during breakfast, face set in hard lines of defiance even as his eyes flashed with fear. 

 

Steve had frozen, hands stopping halfway slicing his pancake. He had seen Wanda dump a whole load of books named Harry Potter on Bucky and although he had refused to read them, he had seen a couple of the movies. “Okay Buck,” he said conversationally, resuming slicing his food. “Which house are you in?”

 

Bucky had made a frustrated noise. “I’m a  _ real  _ witch, Steve,” he’d insisted, leaving Steve floundering around for the correct response. “You think I’m crazy,” Bucky had added before Steve could respond, disappointment adding to the fear as his shoulders curled in almost unconsciously. 

 

“No, no, no, Buck,” Steve had said quickly putting down his knife and fork, his eyes wide. “I just don’t know anything about whatever you’re saying,” he’d settled on finally hoping he was not making the situation worse. When Bucky’s shoulders had relaxed minutely, Steve almost let out a relieved breath. The conversation had ended there for the time being and Bucky had let Steve tangle their legs under the table. Bucky had disappeared after breakfast until he came back in the evening with three books on witchcraft from the library and dropped it into Steve’s lap as the latter was sketching on the couch before walking away to curl up in the sun spot on the plush carpet by the window like a cat. 

 

It had taken Steve two days of continuous reading to understand- on an intellectual level- what Bucky had been talking about. Two more days to calm down after calling Sam freaking out about it (Sam had sounded unfazed: “Man, I’ve seen Norse Gods in real life and I’ve seen a girl mess with people’s minds and move things with her mind. This is nothing.”) and two more further days for the delivery he had ordered to arrive. The whole week had had undercurrents of tension that had been only growing as neither of them addressed it. Bucky hadn’t brought up witchcraft again and Steve had been too busy with freaking out to notice it. So when the parcel had finally arrived, Bucky was nowhere to be found. Steve had finally found him in his room, curled into a corner, almost invisible as he stared at one of his plants that he’d set in front of him, his eyes glassy, his arms wrapped tightly around his knees. 

 

Steve had knocked quietly on the half-open door, leaning against the door frame. “Hey Bucky,” he’d smiled strained. “Can I come in?”

 

Bucky had looked up only to nod before going back to stare at his plant. Steve had walked in, the parcel clutched tightly in his hand and sat down on Bucky’s bed, facing him but leaving enough space between them and a clear exit to the door. 

 

“I’ll stop it,” Bucky had whispered even before Steve had opened his mouth. Steve frowned.

 

“Stop what, Bucky?”

 

“Magic,” Bucky replied, his voice barely audible as he curled into himself tighter than Steve had thought possible.

 

“Then your gift will be a waste, wouldn’t it?”

 

Bucky had looked up confused, his eyes focusing on the parcel. Steve had held out the parcel, letting Bucky take his time before he moved to grab the parcel and tear into it. Inside it, a t-shirt with “Resting Witch Face” printed on it with the typical broomstick and pointed hat clipart. Bucky’s eyes had widened in disbelief as he took in the T-shirt.

 

“Look, Buck, I don’t really understand what this is but it is what you want so I’ll support you, okay? No matter what. I’m sorry it took me so long to do what was obvious.”

 

Bucky’s eyes had crinkled up in the corners as he smiled up genuinely at Steve. “Okay.”

 

“You wanna come out of the corner now?” Steve had smiled back widely, opening his arms for Bucky to crawl in and wrap himself around Steve’s torso, shifting them both until his back was facing the wall and he could have a vantage point of the entire room from over Steve’s shoulder. They had sat like that for a while, Steve humming tunelessly, soaking in the contact that he had missed for the last week, drawing shapeless patterns on Bucky’s back. 

 

“Does this mean I can do spells on you now?” Bucky had finally asked, his face still mashed against Steve’s shoulder.

 

“Whatever you want, baby” Steve had replied, pressing a kiss to the side of Bucky’s head.

 

If he knew it meant having crystal chips stuffed into his underwear before missions because, “Crystals are expensive, Steve! I can’t risk them falling out of your suit!”, maybe he would’ve thought more before agreeing to it. It didn’t matter anyway, he loved Bucky too much to say no to anything the brunette threw his way. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed that, please don't forget to leave kudos or comments (I honestly love all your comments)! You can come scream with me on my tumblr [here](https://turquoise-tales.tumblr.com/)


End file.
